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Set your story in a writing class, workshop, or retreat.

Posted in Short Story on May 23, 2025

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✍️ 39 stories

The Wrong Workshop

Submitted to Contest #304

TW: Mentions physical gore.Any moment now Mike’s motley crew, which was how he thought of his art group, would be joining him. He turned the radiator up two notches in the attic room that currently served as both studio and workshop.With sheets spread over his most recent canvases, a faintly surreal air hung about the place. Regarded as a successful artist in his heyday even if that was some time ago, the only work on permanent display was the self-portrait painted in oils not long after leaving art school. It depicted a man with white-blond...

24 likes 14 comments 14
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Worth The Registration Fee

Submitted to Contest #304

Ben picked at a piece of icing with his fingernail. The doughnut on the styrofoam plate was obviously a couple days old, and he couldn’t bring himself to take a bite of it. This was the “breakfast provided”, as advertised on the workshop’s flyer; stale doughnuts, various chunks of cantaloupe, pineapple, and honeydew from a plastic platter bought at the closest supermarket, and weak Maxwell House coffee.Twenty minutes in, and the workshop was exactly what Ben had expected it to be. A Days Inn ballroom with a scattering of round 6-top tables w...

15 likes 2 comments 2
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Crystal Lake Inspirational Writing Workshop

Submitted to Contest #304

The flickering fluorescent lights of the old Camp Crystal Lake recreation hall hummed a mournful tune, casting long, distorted shadows across the mismatched folding tables.Dust motes, thick as snowflakes in a blizzard, danced in the anemic glow, giving the whole scene a rather… stale aroma.This was the "Crysyal Lake Inspirational Writing Workshop," an exclusive retreat promising to unlock one's inner literary genius.The current session, however, seemed more likely to unlock one's inner scream.At the head of the room stood Jason Voorhees, unm...

12 likes 5 comments 5
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Step into Silence

Shortlisted for Contest #304 ⭐️

Quiet.That was the only rule at The Hollow Pines Writing Retreat. No talking, no phones, no unnecessary noise. Just ink, silence, and the slow unraveling of the self.Margot Eaves had chosen the rules — not out of cruelty, but out of necessity. Words, when spoken, had always seemed slippery to her. Too quick. Too loud. Too dangerous. But words written? Contained in margins, confined in paper and punctuation — those, she trusted.The Hollow Pines cabin stood like a secret in the Vermont woods, far from the cities where dreams were pitched and c...

11 likes 4 comments 4
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Two Dragons Walk Into a Writing Retreat

Submitted to Contest #304

If you’ve never seen a dragon try to hold a quill, you’ve missed one of the quiet tragedies of the post-clause era.Thundros Cloudbelch—a name that sounded like a weather complaint and lived up to it—was hunched over a wrought-stone desk at the Smokevault Retreat Hall, scowling at a blank sheet of flame-inscribed parchment as if it had personally insulted his lineage.“‘Memoir,’” he muttered, jaw tight. “‘Mandatory for archival integrity and generational transmission.’ Sounds like execution by ink.”The desk creaked under him. He shifted uncomf...

10 likes 2 comments 2
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Amelia's Worlds

Submitted to Contest #304

Tai knew what love was the moment they finished reading Amelia’s story.They had had glimpses of it before. Over the past few weeks, they had been remembering little moments from their late ten-year relationship that might have been what people called love. There were times as a kid, when they would read late into the night, and fall asleep with a book on their chest, and get woken up by their mother in the morning, shaking her head as she turned off the golden lamp on the bedside table, that felt like love.But if they ever felt the way Ameli...

10 likes 7 comments 7
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They Got What They Paid For

Submitted to Contest #304

It was rumored that renowned romance writer Nina Grant was not only emerging from her ten-year reclusive period but was planning to host writing seminars in her home. Aspiring authors waited with bated breath for any sign of confirmation. When a website link went live with the information, every young writer in the entirety of the New England area submitted their applications online; unsure if they were responding to a hoax or throwing their hats and hopes into the proverbial ring for a seat at Nina’s table; literally. The website for submi...

10 likes 3 comments 3
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Retreated

Submitted to Contest #304

Day 1 - How did I get included with this bunch? What exactly is a writer’s group? The court gave me a list to choose from to fulfill my community service. Instead of roadside trash clearance, I checked this by mistake. Guess it pays to read.I need to keep a journal of my experience. My first impression is roadside clearance is more practical. It has better company and simpler rules. But here I am, ten miles from nowhere and fifty from somewhere. How do I turn down the volume on the birds? Before realizing my mistake, I asked the two other gu...

10 likes 9 comments 9
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Writing with One Eye Open

Submitted to Contest #304

Demarco had no beef with artificial intelligence. He just didn’t trust anything that didn’t eat, sleep, or panic before deadlines.So when Professor Rhee wheeled a high-tech monitor into their Writing 214 class and said, “Meet your new writing partner—PENumbra,” Demarco blinked twice, then raised a hand.“Question,” he said. “Did PENumbra pay tuition? Because this is looking like unpaid group work.”The class laughed. Even Professor Rhee cracked a smile. “PENumbra is here to help us push our creative limits. Think of it as a collaborator.”Demar...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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The Last Workshop

Submitted to Contest #304

The Last Workshop The coffee had gone cold an hour ago, but Margaret still clutched the ceramic mug like a lifeline. Around the worn oak table, seven other writers sat in varying degrees of discomfort, their manuscripts scattered before them like evidence of crimes they weren't sure they'd committed."So," said Professor Henley, his reading glasses perched precariously on his nose, "who wants to share first?"The silence stretched like taffy. Autumn leaves performed their annual death dance outside the community center's windows, and Margaret ...

7 likes 3 comments 3
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Uncle Freddy's Writers' Boot Camp

Submitted to Contest #304

I saw an advertisement in the U.C. Davis college news bulletin as I was sitting on a bench near Bixby Hall across from the Dining Concessions. Join Uncle Teddy’s Writers’ Boot Camp Program starts on June 10th Be there or be square June 10th happened to be the start of summer break. I was supposed to be on my way home to Tracy, California. I would have to break the news to my mother Tammy Wiggins that I did not pass my philosophy class and might have to take it next semester in August. I could just about hear her harping on about not put...

7 likes 2 comments 2
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The Halfway House for Disgruntled Characters

Submitted to Contest #304

“Consider the rear suite of rooms in Cloudbank Cabin for Arthurian Studies occupied until further notice,” announced Imaginational Dabrowski, one of the five overexcitable Dabrowski Dogs, who were Little Plump Jo’s writing companions. “But you must not breathe a word to anyone!”“I did not even know that there was a rear suite of rooms!” Jo replied.“Every problem has a solution, if you apply some imagination to it!” Imaginational declared. “I think you will find this is a most satisfactory solution.”“I do not know what the problem is.”“Proble...

7 likes 0 comments 0
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The Class Idiot

Submitted to Contest #304

The Class Idiot Today was our first workshop in Undergraduate Writing 101, and it was an eye-opener. Five freshmen coeds and I, a returning-to-college senior, would read the first two pages of our new short stories, followed by a group discussion with comments and suggestions. I was looking forward to the coeds recognizing my genius. Once everyone was in the classroom and seated, the teacher, a seasoned novelist, asked me to begin. I was delighted. I knew—and maybe he suspected—that my short story would be brilliant, and I was glad to show ...

6 likes 0 comments 0
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The Retreat

Submitted to Contest #304

Dan snoozed all three of his alarms, finally lurching awake to toss back the duvet with his guts parked in his throat at 4:32. Oversleeping meant no time for coffee. Afternoon light glowed dimly around the edges of linty blackout curtains that were half an inch shy of fully covering the window pane but not narrow enough to provoke a return to Lowe’s. He pressed the pads of his fingertips to his temples, silently pleading with the ache that seemed determined to camp out behind his orbital bones to kindly fuck off. He didn’t need all of his br...

6 likes 0 comments 0
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Writs Upon Rock

Submitted to Contest #304

The only sound the children made as they walked through the bush was the bird-like twittering and chirping of their tongues as they spoke to one another. They were a silent people, used to moving unheard, and the light feet of the young were even less discernible beneath the light wind in the grass. It had been a day of exploration through the forests and granite hills of this land their nomadic lifestyle had brought them to, though it was familiar to all but the youngest of them. With the setting sun it was time to return to the clan's cave...

5 likes 0 comments 0
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